


Power Play

by GulJeri



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alien Sex, Alien anatomy, Anal, Defective Vorta, Dom/sub, Double Penetration, M/M, Rough Sex, Slight Bondage, Toy Play, ass eating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 22:10:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8818033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GulJeri/pseuds/GulJeri
Summary: I wanted more of these two. It sort of ties in with "Damar And His Vices" but if you haven't read that it's no big deal.Damar and Weyoun having fun dirty sex + plenty of sassing as only a Vorta can do.





	

Damar could not believe that his sexual play with the Vorta had come to this. Weyoun sat nude on his knees with his wrists bound behind his back, tied up with one of Damar's spare uniform undershirts. The Vorta gazed up at him with clouded purple eyes, so wide, and large, and somehow still retaining a look of innocence despite all of the perverse things they had done together behind closed doors—things that Weyoun had begged him for.

This one was surely defective and Damar was certain that the Founders would realize it at any time and do away with him. It didn't matter—Damar had no sympathy for him. Outside of their games Weyoun continued to be the same irritating, grating, sycophantic Dominion toady. Damar prided himself on this one, though, and allowed himself to believe that it was he who had broken Weyoun so beautifully. 

Damar stopped circling his prey and stood in front of him. He shoved his pants down to reveal his pink and glistening prUt. Weyoun licked his thin lips subtly.

“Say it,” Damar demanded gruffly. He had a tumbler of kanar in one hand and tipped it to his lips to finish off the last drop. Weyoun watched the last traces of the liquid shimmer against Damar's full lower lip.

“I...” Weyoun gasped, tilting his head back, dropping his eyelids to half-close over the lust filled lavender eyes, “I... live to serve you... Founder.”

Damar's lips spread into a slow grin. He had only recently convinced Weyoun to refer to him as 'Founder' during their play. After all, Damar had said, who would know besides the two of them? And it was only a game, wasn't it? Of course the Founders knew that their Vorta was truly only loyal to them. Damar could be good at deceit and weaving lies on the rare occasion he didn't stick his foot in his mouth—and this time it worked for him. He hated the Founders himself but what he enjoyed about Weyoun referring to him by the title was the fact that Damar felt he had somehow won in drawing the Vorta away from his blinded worship of the Changelings. It made much more sense that the Vorta should worship his prUt instead. It could make him feel good in ways that his stupid Founders never could.

“Hmm,” Damar hummed his approval, the sound deep, and gravelly, in his throat, “what can you do to please me, I wonder?” Damar said. He stepped away from Weyoun to place his empty glass aside and he leaned against the wall and stroked his prUt languidly. “Do you want my thick Cho'Ch?” Damar asked, referring to his prUt as his 'spear'. 

“You know it would please me... to take your little--” 

Damar stomped over to Weyoun and grabbed his chin roughly in his hand.

“My what?” Damar growled.

Weyoun grinned up at him, his eyes sparkling.

“Your magnificent Cho'Ch,” Weyoun said, dragging out the word 'magnificent' into something slow, and breathy, and sexual. His eyes were burning up at Damar. Damar let go of his chin and Weyoun opened his mouth. 

“I don't want your mouth right now,” Damar said, “close it. Keep it closed. I don't like your sass.”  
Weyoun closed his mouth with a click and looked up plaintively at Damar, his eyebrows pulled slightly together, complaining without his words for once.

“Lay back and show me your nasty, purple, ajan,” Damar said.

Weyoun did as he was told. He tipped himself onto his side which was easier than trying to lay on his back while his wrists were bound behind him. He lifted one of his pale, slender, legs to display the wet folds of his genitals. 

Damar leaned down and spat onto the slick folds and rubbed them a bit until Weyoun was shifting his hips indicating that he wanted more. 

“In a minute,” Damar said lazily, getting back to his feet, and taking himself to the replicator. Weyoun whined but Damar ignored him while he punched in a code and waited for the item to materialize. 

He returned with something in his hand that resembled an over-sized Cardassian phallus.

“What is that?” Weyoun asked.

“An ot’tassi,” Damar said, “stand.”

It was difficult for Weyoun to get to his feet with his wrists bound but he managed it. Damar seemed to have enjoyed watching him struggle.

“What is an ot'tassi? It looks like your Cho'Ch,” Weyoun said.

“It's supposed to. An ot'tassi is any kind of sex toy that's used for penetration,” Damar said, “sometimes my wife fucks me with one,” Damar said, pleased at the way Weyoun's eyes grew wide with surprise.

“You?” the Vorta asked incredulously, his mouth hanging open.

“Yes,” Damar said simply. 

“How... vile,” Weyoun said, pulling out the last word to emphasis it while he scrunched his eyes at Damar.

“You won't think so,” Damar said, “bend yourself over my bar.”

Damar motioned towards the stand that he kept stocked with kanar. Weyoun obeyed him and bent over it leaving his pale little ass on display for Damar. Damar gave it a nice slap which made the Vorta cry out. He kicked Weyoun's legs into a wider stance and worked the ot'tassi into Weyoun's opening while the Vorta made beautiful keening noises as he was stretched. 

“Oh, oh, Damar, fuck me!” Weyoun begged.

“Stop that,” Damar barked, “or you'll be in trouble. Don't tell me what to do to you—you'll get it in time.”

Weyoun whined and wiggled his bottom. He clenched his muscles around the thick ot'tassi that Damar had worked deep inside of him. 

Damar gave a wicked little chuckle and pressed a button on the bottom of the toy. Weyoun gave a shrill, ear-splitting cry, that would rival the sound of a Ferengi in danger. The toy was vibrating. Weyoun began to thrash.

“Calm down, or I'll turn it off!” Damar threatened, laying another smack to Weyoun's ass.

“Oh, oh, oh!” Weyoun cried.

“Stay still!” Damar demanded.

Weyoun tried his best but continued to whine and keen. Damar spread his ass and swiped his tongue over the smooth skin and hole that he found there. 

“What! What! What are you!” Weyoun chirped at him but couldn't seem to finish his thoughts. Damar slapped his bottom again and wiggled his tongue against the puckering little hole. It flexed against his mouth and he made it good and slippery with his spit before shoving his tongue inside and really making Weyoun scream. Damar had never been with a Cardassian partner who was as noisy as this Vorta was, but as annoying as it could get, he supposed it would not suit Weyoun if he was ever quiet for too long.

Damar continued to lick, and spit, and make all sorts of obscene slurping noises with his face pressed into Weyoun's ass, his hands gripping the round cheeks hard enough to leave bruises. 

“Yes, nice and open for me,” Damar said, pulling back to examine the hole and prod at it with his fingers. His nose and mouth were slicked and dripping with spit.

“Ohhh, Damar—are you going to—to--put your prUt there?” Weyoun sighed.

“My what?” 

“Your Cho'Ch,” Weyoun corrected.

“Do you want it there?” Damar asked, slipping one finger into the hole all the way up to the last knuckle. Weyoun pushed back against him and keened.

“Yes!”

The Vorta flexed his muscles around the ot'tassi and Damar's finger. Damar hissed in pleasure. 

“Are you going to squeeze my Cho'Ch like that?” Damar growled.

“Yes, yes!” Weyoun cried.

“Until I've filled you up with my come?”

“Yes!” Weyoun cried louder, thrashing his head, “do it—please--I want—oh!”

Damar pushed his prUt into Weyoun's hole spreading it around his thick length. Weyoun's knees gave out on him so it was a good thing that Damar had him bent over the bar.

“I don't like to compliment you too much, but this is a delicious little ass,” Damar growled, laying another slap onto one of the cheeks.

He fucked Weyoun hard while the ot'tassi buzzed away in the Vorta's genital opening. Weyoun thrashed wildly and came once right away, splattering the floor beneath them with his messy slime. He came a second time just shortly after the first and he was so wet and slick that the ot'tassi slipped out of him and fell onto the floor buzzing in the puddles of purplish Vorta come. Damar pounded him hard and when Weyoun thrashed and shouted through his third orgasm Damar came too with a roar and pulled himself out at the last moment to spray his seed over Weyoun's trembling little rear. 

Damar untied his wrists and tossed the undershirt aside.

The Vorta sagged against Damar's liquor cabinet. The floor was so drenched that Damar was slipping in it. Weyoun's ass was covered in Cardassian come, his thighs and legs dripping thickly with his own, and the cabinet doors glistened wetly between Weyoun's spread legs.

Vorta sex was always so messy.

“Do you think you could clean that up?” Damar asked.

“Do you think you could breathe if I launched you into space right now?” Weyoun asked.

Damar chuckled.

“I shouldn't fuck you so hard, you know. You're never able to leave my room afterwards, and I don't like it. I'd rather throw you out and make you limp back to your quarters. You're not my lover—you're my nasty little toy, Weyoun.”

“Then I get my revenge on you by being unable to walk,” Weyoun said.

To prove this he pushed himself off of the bar but his legs were trembling and he slipped down into the puddles of his own come.

“Disgusting thing,” Damar said.

“For you,” Weyoun answered, getting up to his hands and knees and crawling towards Damar's bed.

“I didn't say you could get in there!” Damar huffed, stalking after him, “you'll mess my sheets!”

“Oh, really, and when's the last time you had them cleaned? They're probably soiled with spilled kanar and your own come. You're the most untidy--”

“Weyoun!”

“Slovenly--”

“Stop it!”

“Disgusting!”

Weyoun hoisted himself into Damar's bed and buried himself under the covers.

“Thing!” Weyoun finished, “and if you throw me out, I'll make you pay with more than your sheets.”

Damar growled.

“Now... be a dear and clean up that mess on the floor,” Weyoun said, a pleased little smile curling his lips, “we're not having sex now... so I am your superior.”

Damar's upper lip twitched in annoyance. 

Weyoun watched him from his cocoon of blankets while Damar scrubbed the mess off the floor.


End file.
